


Softly

by Rymdunge



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Kisses, no real plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1238053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rymdunge/pseuds/Rymdunge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Literarily nothing but a cheesy ball of fluff coated in attempts at creative word-usage. Read because it's short and there's always too little Marlas in the world?)</p><p>Martin watches Douglas sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Softly

**Author's Note:**

> I should be sleeping, instead of writing ficlets about sleepy people. Since my computer is still away for reparations and I STILL don't know if I'll get all my hard-drive back in one piece, I'm trying to write other things in the mean-time. Call this a replacement for that chapter of "Flightless Dog" that ought to be up by now.
> 
> (Gosh, I'm playing it loose and lax with the English language at the moment. I REALLY ought to be sleeping.)

Douglas has quite dark eyelashes. It’s difficult to see while he’s awake and moving about – his words and voice and general Douglas-ness pulling all attention in like a burning star. When he’s sleeping, though, they stand out against his pale cheeks. His face looks a lot softer, too. Mouth hanging slightly open instead of smirking, breathing low snores instead of weaving snarky poetry. Eyes hidden from sight, which means that the center-point of his face slips downward, to his rounded nose. 

His hair always looks soft, but when his sleeping it’s allowed to float out of its carefully kept shape. The dark strands spread over his face and the white pillow his head rests on as though he was underwater.

Martin sighs at the sight. It feels as though he hardly sleeps anymore these days. Sex with Douglas is wonderful, of course _(of course,_ Douglas would say, with a smug grin), but being allowed to watch him unguarded and naked (both in the literal and metaphorical sense) is a wonder all on its own.

Gently, so as to not wake the older man, Martin places a hand on Douglas’ slowly raising and falling chest. He feels his steady heart beating, calm and slow.

 _God..._ ”I love you,” he whispers, unable to stop himself.

”Of course.”

Martin freezes. He stares at Douglas' face. Still relaxed and with eyes closed, you could be forgiven for thinking that he was still asleep, if it wasn’t for the smile that had appeared.

Before Martin gets a chance to roll away or back-peddle, Douglas has rolled over to lay half on top of him, resting one elbow on each side of Martin’s head. He looks down at Martin’s heating face past heavy eyelids and his smile widens. It’s an odd smile. It doesn’t contort or diminish the sleepy softness Martin had just marvelled at, rather, it enhances it.

He can’t possibly close his eyes.

”How could you not?” A lock of hair that just rested against the bridge of his nose gently tickles against Martin’s forehead and he wants to tuck it back into place even as irritation at the words tingles his cheeks.

”Bastard,” he grumbles and stares at Douglas' chin, unwilling to look him in the eye, but still unable to look away from the other man.

”How rude,” Douglas says without sounding the least bit affronted. His teeth glint in the light from a passing car.

”Not if it’s true,” Martin says. Why couldn’t he just have kept his mouth shut!? He finally closes his eyes, even though it can’t really help him hide.

Douglas huffs and moves one hand down to poke Martin in the ribs. The younger man lets out an undignified squeak. ”You’re lucky I love you enough to tolerate such hurtful words.”

Martin blinks and looks up to meet Douglas’ eyes. Douglas tilts his head slightly to the side, eyes glittering as he lowers himself downward. Warm hands coarsened by many years cups Martin’s face. Douglas rubs his thumbs over his cheeks, as though trying to wipe away the embarrassment still lingering there. Then he bends down, closing the gap between their faces with a chaste kiss. The lock of hair gets caught between their noses, but the small irritation feels insignificant when compared to the warmth of the kiss.

Martin’s eyes closes once again as the taste and sent of Douglas fills his senses.

”Do you really?” he whispers into the wet, warm burrow of Douglas’ mouth.

”More than you could possibly imagine,” Douglas says, before wholly enveloping Martin in his still sleep-heavy body.


End file.
